


When the Day Met the Night

by snowhoe



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Based On A Panic! At The Disco Song, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, dope, i reallllllly dont know what this is, idk - Freeform, it's just them being cute, they might be in america bc it's hot, woah that's a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21826279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowhoe/pseuds/snowhoe
Summary: His gaze quickly darted upwards, though. What he saw was probably the most captivating thing he’d ever seen. It was the middle of Summer, and everything blazed with a fury, including Simon’s heart. It’s rapid beats surprised him, and everything grew fuzzy. He pinpointed his eyes to the ground.But something in him willed his eyes to look up, so they did, and they were met with the most beautiful boy Simon had ever seen.* Pretty much just When the Day Met the Night by P!ATD as Snowbaz
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	When the Day Met the Night

**Author's Note:**

> So I was screaming my show tunes and P!ATD heart out when the song When the Day Met the Night by Panic! came on, and I thought to myself, "This song is so cute. It would be great as-" *GASP* 
> 
> Which is exactly what I did. I started it before swim practice then finished it afterward, so it's not great. But, I had fun with it so that's all that matters, right? eh
> 
> anygayssssssssss, you can read it now

It was the middle of Summer--hot, blazing summer--and everything was coming to life. The air was harsh and calculating and made the world seem as if it owed everyone something; the flowers smelled of as much bliss as a flower could, lighting up the world; and people everywhere were smiling, despite the slick heat. The day felt divine and important, as if everything would change. 

And that’s exactly what happened. It was the middle of Summer, and everything was supposed to be okay. For once in his sorry life, everything was supposed to finally be okay, but it wasn’t. Simon got fired. His girlfriend broke up with him. And, to top it all off, it was the middle of Summer. He could feel the sweat dripping down his back, soaking his shirt through, no doubt. All Simon wanted to do was go home, take a shower, and sleep, but his insufferable roommate Penny put a sock on the door.

At the time, Simon thought a walk would be a good chance to blow off some steam and think things through. Oh, but now, Simon wanted to punch Past Simon who thought that square in the nose. Today just sucked. 

Although, Simon never turned around. He just let his feet carry him to where his heart could not. The longer he walked, the worse and better he felt. It was strange. Simon walked so far that he wasn’t seeing people anymore, just trees and more trees. Which, he must admit, he was quite thankful for. If he saw another girl laughing with her friends or couple that was tooth-rottingly in love, Simon might’ve pulled his eyes out. 

Simon jumped. He turned to face a bush where he was met head on with a squirrel. Then the squirrel quickly disappeared back into the same bush it popped out of. Simon stood there, staring at the bush, quickly realizing that the flowers on it were beautiful. He lunged at them, plucking one off. Simon looked to the flower down in his hand and smiled. At least the flower wasn’t running away from him too. 

His gaze quickly darted upwards, though. What he saw was probably the most captivating thing he’d ever seen. It was the middle of Summer, and everything blazed with a fury, including Simon’s heart. It’s rapid beats surprised him, and everything grew fuzzy. He pinpointed his eyes to the ground.

But something in him willed his eyes to look up, so they did, and they were met with the most beautiful boy Simon had ever seen. 

Under the green umbrella trees in the middle of Summer, sat a boy drinking tea in a garden. From Simon’s view, the boy had his dark hair up--was it a girl?--and was seated by a fountain. Then Simon looked up and saw the mansion. That explained the fountain. But as much as the house was dazzling, the boy was more so. Simon didn’t understand anything that was happening. It was just a boy.  _ A boy.  _ Nothing less, nothing more, so why has his breath hitched? Why does his heart ache? Why do his knees feel weak?

Simon closed his gaping mouth just in time, because as soon as he saw it, he screamed. He stumbled back with a squirrel on his face, falling flat on his butt. It took a second or two of thrashing and prying, but finally he got that squirrel off his face. Not without causing a show, though, because the boy had run over to him. If Simon’s heart wasn’t beating fast enough from the squirrel, it definitely was now. He just looked up, too starry-eyed to say anything. 

The boy stuck out his hand and, hesitantly, Simon took it. When he got hauled up, Simon was ready to run away. But the boy never let go of Simon’s hand and instead led him to where he was originally sitting. Simon felt the back of his knees against the plastic chair and he heard the boy say, “Sit.”

Simon did as he was told and sat down. The rather pale boy turned on his heels and walked into the mansion. Simon took this chance to peer around the mystical garden. It was quite lovely, honestly. There were stone pathways circling the fountain and then leading in many different directions--the door, the greenhouse, the flower gardens, and the big tree with a swing on it. Everything around him roared with life, which made Simon a bit jealous. The only thing that was in the slightest bit depressing was the look on the man in the fountain. And Simon, of course. 

The boy came back out with a first aid kit and a glass of lemonade. The closer the boy got, the quicker Simon realized that he wasn’t really a boy, but a  _ man.  _ They looked about the same age, though, the other boy--man--did seem to have a more radiating glow. 

He gave Simon the lemonade and squatted directly in front of him. Simon wanted to say something, anything, but his voice wouldn’t let him, so he sat there, watching the boy grab bandages. Apparently he got what he needed, because the boy looked Simon directly in the eyes, ghosted his hand over Simon’s chee, and said, “May I?”

_ Oh, god, yes,  _ Simon wanted to say. But all he did was nod. With permission, the boy grabbed Simon’s jaw and began to clean up his face. Simon didn’t know exactly how much the squirrel scratched him, but he did know that it was throbbing. Hard. Every touch to it hurt so bad, leaving Simon winching.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to hurt you,” the boy said, probably noticing Simon’s tenseness. 

“It’s okay,” Simon said through clenched teeth. 

Then the boy carried on, being extra gentle this time. “Baz,” he muttered. Simon gave him a curious look. “That’s my name. Baz.”

“Ah,” Simon sighed. Clearing his throat, he added, “My name’s Simon. And I just want you to know that this doesn’t happen...often.”

Baz let out a chuckle, and while doing so he pressed a bit too hard and Simon jerked back. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s alright.”

“By ‘this doesn’t happen often’ are you referring to getting jumped by a squirrel or wandering in the middle of the woods?” Baz asked with a playful tone. 

Simon smiled. His eyes darted everywhere. The boy’s lean figure, his  _ maybe too short  _ shorts, his lean, gentle fingers. Baz was truly a sight to see. “Well, both, but I was referring to,” Simon looked down, “the whole getting cleaned up by a cute boy thing.” 

Baz grinned and looked anywhere but Simon. He couldn’t really tell if it was the heat or what Simon said that caused the rosyness on his cheeks, but Simon counted it as a win either way. “God, you really are barely hanging on, aren’t you?” 

When Simon gave a questioning look, Baz continued, “A squirrel jumped on your face, you look like you’re about to have a heat stroke, and you’re definitely lost. Yet you’re flirting.” He laughed and Simon decided that he needed to hear that joyous noise again. “It’s quite adorable.”

_ Adorable.  _

_ Adorable.  _

_ Adorable.  _

Simon was  _ Adorable. _ It was the middle of Summer, and nothing felt warmer than Simon’s heart. Maybe he was about to have a heat stroke. As Baz worked on cleaning Simon’s face up, Simon kept staring. There was so much to stare at, Simon found. His slender nose; the way his lips curled ever so slightly when he looked into Simon’s eyes; his tongue sticking out of his mouth, concentrating had; and, even though it was a feeling not a sight, the warmth of his other hand that moved to the back of his neck.

Simon felt him press a bandaid right over the bridge of his nose. “Alright, I think,” he grabbed Simon by the jaw and tilted his head in both directions, “I’m done.”

“Oh,” Simon said, disappointed. The last thing he wanted to do was leave. “You should be, like, a doctor or something.” He didn’t exactly know why he said it since all the other boy did was basic first aid, but the look on Baz’s face made Simon do a little dance inside. 

“Actually, I’m studying to be a nurse practitioner. So, thanks, I guess.” 

_ Wow,  _ Simon thought,  _ a hot nurse.  _ “Really? That’s awesome.”

Baz smiled. “Yeah. The sleep schedule isn’t really, though.” Scratching the back of his neck, Baz bit his lip. “So, uh, did you want to...come inside?”

Simon looked up at the mansion. And, to his disbelief, he saw a gargoyle, which really confused him.  _ Why the fu-  _ He tore his gaze back to Baz, realizing that he was supposed to answer. “If you want me to.”

Grabbing his--now--very sweaty hand, Baz led Simon through the garden. “Is this your house?”

He turned around to face Simon and laughed, showing Simon how lucky he was to have met Baz. “Oh, god, no. It’s my parents’, I’m just visiting for the weekend. My mom calls it ‘family bonding,’ which, if you ask me, is a load of nonsense.”

“I dunno, sounds fun.”

“Then you gladly can go play board games with my little sister. Beware: she’s a cheater.” Even though the words were in a more negative connotation, Simon could tell that he really loved his sister. 

Baz stopped at the door and faced Simon fully. One the positive, Simon could see the extra...three inches Baz had on him, and on the negative, Baz let go of his hand. You win some, you lose some. 

“I have to warn you, my family is a bit much. There’s a lot of babies, my sister Mordelia is wicked scary, my step-mom is so polite that you don’t believe it, and my father is ice cold.” Baz looked down, “Just don’t let them scare you off, I kind of want to keep you around.” 

Simon swolled. Those words were on a record player in his mind. Opening the door, Baz grabbed Simon’s hand again (thank all things divine) and led him inside. And, to say the least, Simon was astounded. He’d never seen anything more luxurious and scary and gorgeous in all his life--and he’s seen pictures of the White House before. Baz’s house, or, not Baz’s house was beautiful. 

The door led to the kitchen which was, again, gorgeous. The granite countertops, the marvelous gas-powered stove, and the-  _ wait, is that a pizza oven?  _ Simon was ready to move in. 

Baz must’ve noticed because he whispered, “You can stop drooling.”

With the hand that wasn’t being tugged along by Baz, Simon pushed his jaw into a more natural position. “Sorry, it’s just that I’m a chef and this kitchen is ravishing.”

“That’s a big word, I’m surprised you know it.”

Simon’s jaw went back to hanging, but not because he was ogling, but because he felt betrayed. “Hey! I’m smart.”

“A squirrel jumped on your face.”

Luckily a lady Simon could only assume to be Baz’s step-mom saw them, because Simon did not come back. She gave the two boys a warm smile and said, “And who is this, Baz? You didn’t mention anyone coming by.”

“Oh, he’s my, uh, friend. Simon, Daphne, Daphne, Simon.”

Daphne pulled Simon into a hug. A very short hug. “Why are you all dirty and sweaty? Surely it’s not that hot out.”

“I walked.”

“You  _ walked? _ We live in the middle of nowhere. You must be hungry, let me get you two a snack.”

Simon tried to say, “No, it’s okay,” but she was already gone. He turned back to Baz who just gave him a little shrug. 

“Hey, let’s make it upstairs before Pitchageddon happens.” With that, Baz took hold of Simon’s hand again and pulled him up the beautiful hardwood stairs into the third door on the left. 

Baz beelined for the bed, leaving Simon standing in the doorway, once again, mouth agape. The was a gigantic fireplace and a burgundy sofa to one side of the room. Then a gigantic bed on the other. Simon couldn’t fix his eyes on one thing. He kept looking at the pale brick of the fireplace, or wondering how soft the couch was, or questioning what was behind the two doors that stood on either side of the fireplace. Though, his eyes did catch on something.

Baz. Then he looked above Baz. 

_ Why the fuck are there gargoyles on his bed. That’s. Fucking. Creppy. _

Then he looked back to Baz. “Did you want to take a shower or something? I hate to break it to you, but you are pretty sweaty.” 

Simon decided to look down at his shirt. Soaked through. Just like he thought. “Please?”

“Yeah, it’s just through that door.” Simon opened the door and was met with clothes--tons of clothes. “Wrong door, stupid.”

“I knew that,” Simon scoffed. “Just making sure you did.” 

The last thing Simon heard was Baz’s delicious laughter. 

* * *

The shower was nice. Very nice. Everything in the house was nice, Simon found. At some point Baz put some clean clothes in the bathroom and it dawned on Simon how crazy this was. For all he knew, he was at a serial killer’s hideout. But, to some degree he trusted Baz. Simon wanted Baz to trust him, too. Simon wanted Baz. Which was insane since they just met. 

He stepped out of the bathroom, cute boy’s clothes on, with caution. Simon didn’t really know what was going to happen next. 

Baz gave him the most welcoming smile Simon had been ever given in his life and suddenly he wasn’t so nervous anymore. “Daphne brought up sandwiches but she didn’t know what kind you would like, and since we’re not actually friends, I didn’t know, so there’s kind of just a buffet of sandwiches.” That was probably the single-handedly best sentence Simon had ever heard. 

But instead of stuffing his face with sandwiches, Simon stood there, frozen. Baz’s smile faltered. “If you don’t want sandwiches, I’m sure she’ll make something else.” 

After what felt like ages, Simon walked over to the bed where Baz was sitting with the tray of sandwiches. Baz’s legs were swung over the edge, creating a perfect space for Simon to stand, so he stood there. 

Now it was Simon standing over Baz. “May I?” Simon asked, hovering his hand over Baz’s cheek. His response was also a nod, which made Simon chuckle. A sense of deja vu came over him. “Look, I know that we barely know each other, but-”

Baz pulled Simon into a kiss. It was stiff and weird for a moment, but it was so right too. Simon put both his hands on Baz’s face, which apparently gave Baz the permission he needed to wrap his hands around Simon’s waist. Then Simon felt it. The moment that they both figured out how to do it--a little  _ click.  _

Baz opened his mouth a little wider, allowing Simon to slip his tongue in. Everything felt warm and right and  _ soft.  _ The longer they kissed, the deeper and frantic it got. Simon’s heart felt so full.

They kissed for several more minutes, then Baz leaned back and Simon fell on top of him. Which was a very bad idea, it turns out, because the tray of sandwiches fell right onto them. And by them, it was really Baz. 

Cucumber and bread landed all over Baz’s face, causing him to laugh. 

Looking down at him, Simon thought,  _ I could fall in love with him.  _

Simon rolled off of Baz and helped him pick up the sandwiches. When they were done, they both just sat up and looked at each other. 

“So…” 

Simon said, “Would it be alright if we just sat and talked for a little while. If in exchange for your time, I give you this smile.” 

Simon smiled.

“That’s okay. As long as you can make a promise not to break my little heart,” Baz smiled back. “Or leave all alone in the Summer.” 

“I promise.”

In the middle of Summer, all was golden in the sky. All was golden when the day met the night.


End file.
